Page Chasers 2, Valentines in Verona
by GreenWallsOfArt
Summary: Richard Tyler's eyes fall on a pretty girl, but how can he approach her?  Only a magic compass, and a single Shakespearian play have all the answers.
1. Pounding Heart

**Chapter 1**

"Okay, everyone, take out your copies of _American History_, and we'll pick up where we left off yesterday."

There was a fluttery scratching in the classroom, as books were pulled out from under every desk. Richard Tyler was no exception, while he dug his fingers into a Post-It note bookmark inside the pages. The covers thumped like wooden planks onto his desk, and he came face-to-face with two long pages of thick, bold text, and several photos full of people in snazzy, sophisticated clothing, cities full of bright lights, and dozens of old automobiles cruising along paved roads.

Richard blinked a few times to adjust to the bright colors and almost tangible emotion coming from those pictures. He didn't remember ever seeing something so grand, or loud, for lack of a better word, in his history book before.

"The Roaring Twenties," his teacher said, scrawling the words across the green blackboard. "The first time in our history that America absolutely lit up, in the cities, in the household! Fashions, and ways of life were changing. Even our ways of thinking were challenged, with cars, credit cards, and all sorts of debates between things like evolution and religion…"

And so it went on. Richard tried to pay attention, but he was drawn far too much to the pictures in his book. So he turned himself comfortably around in his desk, and picked up the edges of the book to draw it closer to his face. Through the lenses of his round glasses, he scanned the detail of the photos and paintings, even focusing on some passages in the text.

"Geez," he whispered, so low that not even his friend, Travis, could hear him from the next desk over. "Imagine riding in one of those old cars. They must have been really noisy, or something…"

Almost involuntarily, Richard reached into his pocket, and pulled out a little silver object. He placed it in his lap under his desk, turning it over and over in his hands. The object was the size of a padlock, and looked like a closed pocket watch, with a long silver chain that hung in between Richard's fingers.

"Maybe if I put this compass on the page after class," Richard whispered to himself. "I could go into the Twenties, and maybe ride on one of those old things."

"Shut up, Rich," Travis hissed. "You want to get us both in trouble, again?"

Richard ignored his friend, just pushing the silver circle further under his desk. "Hey, you're usually the one who talks, Travis," he answered finally.

"Then quit looking at that weird silver thingy and put that book down!" Travis said through his teeth.

"Rich, Travis," the teacher's soft voice asked, while she looked away from the blackboard. "What was that you both were talking about?"

The two boys kept quiet, while Richard clenched the object tighter inside his caged fingers.

"Thank you," the teacher said, before she started to pull down the overhead screen.

"Close call," Travis whispered.

Richard just nodded his head.

The teacher reached for the light switch, and put out the lights, while the students all turned their heads to the screen. When the portable projector started to run a film, Richard snuck his gaze towards his lap, pulling out his fingers to reveal the silver compass.

Richard grinned sneakily. The thing in his palms looked like an ordinary silver compass, with a chain and a scratch-free lid to cover what was inside. In fact, it might have looked like an expensive family heirloom, when really, it had been a rather unexpected gift from a just-as-unexpected source.

Just a week or so ago, Richard had gone on his standard after-school trip to the library, when Mr. Dewey had given him the compass. He wouldn't explain anything about why Richard should keep it, only that he would have wonderful adventures with it, when he opened a book. Knowing the old librarian, Richard couldn't quite take him seriously at first, but there was still some form of truth to what Mr. Dewey had said. Even though Richard thought it was kind of impossible, he could still feel the otherworldliness of the compass, despite how ordinary it seemed.

At last, Richard came to learn just how powerful the compass was that very night, for he placed it within the open pages of a book- _The Wizard of Oz_- and had been transported directly into the heart of the Munchkin city in Oz. Shortly after, Richard met Dorothy and Toto, accompanying them on their journey to the Emerald City, while they made some new friends and new enemies. The compass was like a reluctant companion, having taken on real emotions and ways of communication like a human being, while it revealed all the magic and power it really had. But the instant Richard had returned to reality, it never showed an ounce of that, shutting itself up like a sleeping fairy.

It had been a magnificent journey, since the very first one Richard had taken in the library that one stormy night. And he looked forward to taking another adventure into a book, accompanied by his trusty compass.

The problem however, was that Richard was always too busy or too tired to step into another book.

Richard's heart drooped while he glanced at the silent compass, and then at the screen, where the sparkling lights of a city glared back at the classroom, casting everyone's faces in bright hues. He supposed that he would have to just get out as quickly as he could, and squeeze in such an adventure. That was, if he didn't have too much studying to do.

…**.**

Instead of meeting up with his friends to play a little ball, Richard dashed from the coatroom to the front doors, where he pushed his way through the rushing crowds of excited kids to reach the bike rack. In a few swift motions, he strapped on his helmet, tightened the straps of his backpack, and kicked back the kickstand, pushing off from there. Maneuvering across the sidewalk, between some trotting first-graders and their parents, he followed the cement path to the street, stopping right beside another student on a plain silver bike.

Richard's eye caught the shiny glow of the long, strawberry hair falling down the girl's back beside him, growing in a fiery cascade on top of a lettuce-trim T-shirt. He followed the strands to the solid lime-green helmet on her head, where a slightly-pointed nose stuck out from a pale, blemish-free face. Richard cocked his head to get a better look at her face- maybe to see her eye color- but his shadow blocked the late afternoon sun.

And she was turning her head to glance back at him.

Richard swerved his eyes to look ahead again, and took his time looking both ways. For some reason he couldn't focus his whole attention on the road, only snapping back to reality when he watched the redhead girl ride, pretty gracefully, across the street.

Shaking his head, he pressed onto the pedals, and started in the direction of the library once he'd crossed the road. He accidentally turned the corner sharper than he wanted to, squeezing the handlebars like stress balls, even when he was riding straight again. Everywhere he looked, he saw the shine like gold of that girl's hair, like a silken veil beneath her helmet. And even though he only saw them for a fraction of a second, Richard could vividly remember the grassy green in her eyes, like two apples glistening in summer sun.

He didn't even know her name, and yet he thought she was the prettiest, sweetest girl he had ever seen. Suddenly, he didn't quite care if she might be an out-of-reach popular girl, or if she wouldn't dare talk to him if he spoke up. At the very least, he had seen her, and could keep that thought of her inside his head.

Richard couldn't believe it. He had never experienced this kind of feeling before; the minute he could conceive the image of the girl in his mind, his heart beat the same way it had when he fought that dragon in the library; an excited, nervous thrill that he couldn't place a name on at all. Part of him enjoyed it, because it was a sweet, but complex feeling that made him feel good inside.

Driving his bike through the trees, Richard wondered if maybe the girl would enjoy riding her bike through the park with him. He couldn't imagine very much that they would talk about, but still, he wouldn't mind at least trying a joke or two to make her laugh.

That was, if he could even approach her so easily.

Finally, Richard stopped himself at the wrought-iron gates to the park. Beyond them, he could spot the doors of the library, labeled by the tall marble columns and the stone lion guardians. It was a pretty sight, with the spring wind blowing the trees across the path, as if waving for someone to come through the park and pull open the library doors. So Richard didn't hesitate to answer that call; he dismounted his bike, and pulled open one high gate, pushing his bike onto the path while the gate clanged closed behind him.

But then, he stopped short.

Despite the loud swishing of the tree branches, he could hear something else being carried through the air. It was low, but delicate, filled with passion. It was high-pitched, and musical, like a bird at the early dawn.

A voice- of a young girl.

Richard clenched the handlebars of his bike tighter, and wandered along a diverging path to follow the voice. He ducked beneath the lowering branches, avoiding some overgrowing patches of shrubbery, until he reached almost another part of the park, where it was enclosed by tall walls of bushes and trees, with a few benches here and there. Not too far off from Richard, one stone bench was spotlighted by the sun peeking over the high bush wall. Propped against the wall, was a simple metal bike, with a lime-green helmet dangling from one of the handlebars.

And there she was, just standing up from the bench, with a paperback book in her hand, and her long fiery locks of hair tumbling on her back in the breeze while she got to her feet.

Richard ducked back behind the wall the instant he recognized her, although he was absolutely transfixed with rapture. The way the sun glinted off the girl's hair when it caught the wind, and how her green eyes glinted against the sky, tied Richard's heart in knots, pulsing harder for air again. Finally, he had to duck entirely out of the way, holding his chest to steady his nerves, while the girl spoke to the open air.

"'Deny thy father, and refuse thy name'," she said with utmost passion, "'or be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet!'"

Richard could only slowly turn his head. Just yards away from him, was the clear voice from somewhere other than planet earth. He closed his eyes for just a second, pretending that she was speaking to him…

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself and not a Montague. What is Montague?'…"

_Yeah, what_ is_ Montague?_ Richard wondered. _That's actually a funny name. _He covered his lips with a spare hand, trying to cover a laugh, and a stifled gasp at what immense expression he was listening in on.

"'Oh, be some other name." She paused after she spoke, sighing deeply over the sound of the trees. "'What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet. So Romeo, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title.'"

_I don't know what she's really saying, but she has the right voice for it. Maybe she'll stop soon, so I can tell her what a great job she's doing…_

"'Oh, Romeo, doth thy name! And for that name, which is no part of thee, take all myself!'" The girl's voice was loud enough for Richard to hear her joyous giggles, like sweet bells on a rainy day. The way Richard thought about it, the girl seemed to be having a ball reciting strange language like that, although she still risked being spotted alone.

Still, Richard stood stagnant, trying to remember every perfect word that the girl had said. He didn't know whether it was the language, or the way she'd said it, that made his heart swell, but he knew one thing for certain.

"I should ask Mr. Dewey about those words. If there's anyone, he'll know for sure where I can find them."


	2. Chloe

**Chapter 2**

Richard crossed the wide expanse of park as though a giant crow were chasing him, clomping up the front stairs of the library and swinging the doors open so that they flung all the way to the wall. He was at the front desk in less than a second, looking over the top of the high desk for any sign of Mr. Dewey.

"Good heavens! Oh, good to see you, my boy," the aging librarian exclaimed, snapping his head up to look at a heaving Richard. He squinted through his thinly-framed spectacles, pushing aside the papers he was looking at. "Why, what's the matter? You look as though the devil himself, or Edward Hyde, chased you in here!"

"No, no," Richard said, inhaling to his lungs' capacity. "I-I just wanted to ask you…if…maybe…you knew about…something."

"Something, you say?" Mr. Dewey asked, standing up from his swiveling desk chair. "And what might this 'something' be, boy?"

Once more, Richard took in more air, and straightened his shirt, which was twisted from his fast run. He looked right at Mr. Dewey and explained all he knew about the pretty girl in the park, with her sweet and passionate voice, and the interesting words she'd been reading aloud to the sunny afternoon. Mr. Dewey kept an interesting expression on his wrinkled features, furrowing his eyebrows the more that Richard spoke.

Finally, Mr. Dewey just smiled, and cracked an exuberant laugh.

"What's so funny?" Richard said.

Mr. Dewey stopped laughing, and grinned down at Richard. "Oh, dear me, I should have known that that would be Chloe. The park is her favorite place to read, and practice all the scripts. She's an actress, you know."

Richard shook his head, not ready to listen to any nonsense. "Mr. Dewey, who is Chloe?" he asked, keeping his voice was low, but firm.

Mr. Dewey answered at last, although he put on a strange, and knowing, smile. Chloe…ah, Chloe is my granddaughter. And I suppose you think her to be a pretty little lady, do you, Richard Tyler?"

"Yeah. Er, no…um, maybe?" Richard sputtered, clenching his teeth nervously. If the girl he had saw was in fact Mr. Dewey's granddaughter, the interesting possibilities of what the old librarian could offer, made Richard's stomach turn in circles. But then, could he introduce him to Chloe? Would she like him?

"Well, do not take my word for it, boy," Mr. Dewey replied. "From the sound of it, she was confessing her own attraction already. Chloe was introduced to William Shakespeare long before today, and _Romeo and Juliet _is one of her favorites to perform."

"_Romeo and Juliet_?" Richard asked.

"Oh, dear boy, only Shakespeare's most wonderful play, and one of the best in the world of theatre," said Mr. Dewey, who seemed to become transfixed with wonder, even from his own words. "Well then, methinks that if you want to know more about the play, all you have to do is look through yonder theatre section. Love is quite abundant within the play, and, in your state of mind, you may just enjoy it as much as little Chloe does."

Well, _that_ much, at least, Richard knew. Up until now, he had never heard that much about William Shakespeare or _Romeo and Juliet, _except for the fact that it was a romance. But, if he could maybe learn a little more about Chloe, just through taking a closer look at the play, then it just might be worth a try.

A little magic with books never hurt anyone, of course.

"Okay, Mr. Dewey," Richard said, thumbing the circular lump in his pocket. "Can you show me where that is?"

"I'd be most obliged to," Mr. Dewey said, gesturing for Richard to follow him. The two of them proceeded through one of several aisles that branched off from the main lobby, with bookshelves shooting up on either side of them; even after so many visits, Richard felt he might never stop being in awe of the size of those shelves. It was like they were built by giants' hands, but with books nestled comfortably into every square inch.

Mr. Dewey showed nothing but his utmost enthusiasm while they walked, keeping an excited stride several steps ahead of a lingering Richard. He never stopped to slow down, even when he turned a corner, so Richard had to speed his step tenfold just to keep Mr. Dewey in sight. So he was already short of breath when the librarian stopped at an aisle- a series of aisles, really- marked "Theatre and Film".

"Enjoy yourself," Mr. Dewey said, before he strode back in the direction of the front desk- wherever that was now.

Once Mr. Dewey vanished around the corner again, Richard stepped into the aisle, and scaled the shelves for Shakespeare. At first, he thought of using the compass to find a copy of the play, when he remembered that the only thing it could direct him to here, was the front desk. Sullenly, he stuffed it back in his pocket, and put his finger to the spines of the books before him, reading the names of the volumes one by one.

He had gone all the way down the aisle, and the very next one, before he came up with something, keeping up the search down the rows of books, before, just above him, he spotted an aged maroon book, with golden letters across the spine written, "_Romeo and Juliet_".

It took some effort to reach the shelf, but after some good jumps, and an amazing stretch of his arm, Richard touched at the spine of the book. And with a lurch in his stomach, he crouched down, and launched himself into the air. He just barely caught the covers between his fingers that time, coming back down before the other books could crash down with him.

"Great! Definitely great!" Richard noted, as he opened the book. Turning a few pages, he read the intricate script on top that indicated which act to turn to. Speedily, he scanned his eyes along each line, looking for any familiarity to match Chloe's words. When at last he managed to spy the poetic monologue, he read it over and over, as if trying to completely re-imagine the moment he had heard Chloe speak them aloud. So it was a long time before he set the open book on the ground in front of him. Richard reached into his pocket, and plucked out the compass, rubbing his thumb on the smooth surface anxiously.

He pried open the lid- to reveal the marble face of the compass, with its trembling arrow- and set the compass down upon the open book. The pages suddenly stuck to the compass like paper and glue, while the words on the pages shimmered, like they were underwater in sunlight. The silver exterior was shining a bright, icy blue, as little sparkles of fairy dust danced about the space. Jagged white lines spread around the floor by the book, like spider-webs, while the arrow on the compass face ticked like a clock hand, suddenly snapping to a stop at the "N", that pointed north.

Then, as Richard watched the book almost disappear under the magical light of the compass, the lights of the library all blacked out.


	3. Under the Balcony

**Chapter 3**

Right after the magic was over, Richard blindly reached around to grasp the compass. No doubt by now it would have regained its abilities as a living thing, and sure enough, Richard could feel the gentle heat of the compass's surface radiating just beneath his fingers. He lowered his hands, and like a loyal puppy, the compass wrapped its chain around Richard's wrist and roped itself into his grip.

"Thanks," Richard whispered to the compass, and it glowed a honey-yellow, making Richard's hands feel comfortably warm; it was satisfied for now.

Tucking the compass in his hand, Richard looked up, while light gradually flashed back into view, like a fast-motion sunrise. As expected, the library shelves had vanished all around him, replaced with tall, lush trees, and an ancient-looking building hidden behind the shrubbery. It wasn't exactly broad daylight now, but the night was brightened by some stars, and a full moon, casting some silvery light onto the building not very far from where Richard stood. The structure had a wide, broad balcony, which was empty, save for a young girl who leaned on the railing, with her cheek in her hand.

Richard was surprised. If he was correct in assuming that that was Juliet, then his shock increased tenfold. She only looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old- barely a young woman at all. He cocked an eyebrow at her. From all that he knew, he had expected her to be taller, older- like someone who could be college-age.

But, if Juliet was that young, then, what about Romeo?

Richard shook his head, to clear his thoughts away. He was here, wasn't he, inside the play? Then that meant it was time to get down to business, and approach the girl from whom Chloe's beautiful words had come from.

Slowly, he moved through the trees, ducking beneath branches and soft leaves to reach the building. He put a hand on the wall, feeling the grainy stone and clay, before he craned his eyes up; Juliet was leaning almost directly over where he stood.

_Okay, easy now, don't scare her, _Richard told himself, while he stood up on his tip-toes again.

"Hello?" he asked. His voice started out like a whisper, but abruptly turned into almost a shout. Richard flinched; if he couldn't even talk straight to any other girl, like Juliet, what hope was there for Chloe?

Juliet drew in a sharp breath, shooting her head down to meet Richard's eyes. She put a hand to her chest, breathing out slowly, although it was a little shaky with fright. "What man art thou?" she asked. "For what time have you stood below me, there?"

Richard hesitated to speak to her, taken aback by Juliet's speech, as it was strange to him at first. "Whoa, I'm sorry!" he said, forcing himself to regain his senses. "I didn't mean to scare you. I-I just wanted to…um, maybe talk to you for a moment."

Juliet's deer-in-headlights expression softened just a bit, and she took her hand away from her heart. "Oh," she said. "But, in what way can I speak to thee, when I have no clue to thy name?" she asked.

"I'm Richard," he called up to her.

"Call me by Juliet," she answered.

Richard wrung his hands nervously for a second, before he attempted to straighten himself again. "So, um, do you think you could come down here? Or, if I could come…up…there?" He motioned tentatively towards the tall tree adjacent to where Juliet stood, not quite liking the idea of maybe having to climb it.

Juliet looked back and forth between Richard, and the tree he was pointing at, seeming just as confused as he was. Finally, she glanced back down, and moved closer along the balcony railing, towards the tree. Richard gulped.

"If thou wilt do so," she said gently, but timidly, "approach by means of the tree." She glanced with a wary eye back at the door towards the end of the balcony, then back to Richard. "But, hold. Art thou a Montague?"

Richard shook his head, and Juliet relaxed her shoulders again.

He approached the tree. He let go of the compass so that it could float freely beneath him, and hoisted himself upon the first branch with shaking legs. Not that Richard was entirely afraid. He just didn't feel confident in making it all the way to the top; the balcony was pretty high up, from where he stood. Maybe he should have asked Juliet to just come down to him, with a cherry on top.

But once more, he shook his head to clear away his discomfort, and pulled himself up some more. He did so gradually, but maybe a little _too_ gradually. By the time he'd climbed the next series of branches, the compass had turned a pink lemonade color, wagging its chain like an anxious dog.

But then, it stopped, and twirled its chain, lassoing itself around Richard's wrist again. With strength like a full-grown man, the compass yanked Richard up the tree, throwing him onto the balcony railing like a rag doll, and suddenly disappearing behind Richard's back, in less than five seconds.

Juliet half-shrieked, clutching the railing with one hand, and the other clamped over her lips. "Wilt thou be all right?" Juliet asked, moving to help Richard back on his feet.

"I think so, thanks," he answered, craning his head to look behind him at the compass, fixing it with a gee-was-that-really-necessary look.

"Such swiftness, have I never seen a boy climb a tree," Juliet remarked, regarding Richard with amazement and shock.

"It's nothing really," Richard said, as he snatched the compass behind his back; it seared his hand with a blast of intense heat, but he yanked on the chain to make it stop at once. And Juliet continued to give him that awed look, until he stood back up, and leaned casually against the railing.

"Okay, so I was wondering," Richard began, "if there was…um, anything that you…well, _liked_…about boys? I mean, how do you like being approached, or, or anything?" Richard grimaced; he didn't like the way he had worded that question.

Juliet looked at him with a mixture of confusion, and even a little bit of pity, which only made Richard feel more awkward. "I cannot know what, or why, thou asked such questions," she said. "'Tis hard to answer. 'Tis difficult to contemplate, even." That was all she said, before it was quiet between them for a while. From inside the house, they could hear the hustling of feet, and the crickets making music in the grass far below.

Richard absentmindedly began to play with the compass chain behind his back, not knowing what to do next. Juliet's expression was making his stomach hurt, and he was starting to regret having called to her so soon. Maybe he should have remembered to bring the play with him, than he could have read some more before leaping into action. It took substantial willpower to not jump back up and bail from the balcony.

"But, my Romeo…" Juliet's words cut through Richard's nerves like a knife in butter, and he averted his gaze to her.

Juliet stood up, and leaned back on the balcony railing, looking up at the shining moon. She sighed, and rested her head inside her cupped palms.

"Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?" she whispered. "Deny thy father, and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Richard's attention was drawn to Juliet as though she herself were Chloe. He would know those words anywhere, and they sung to him like none other. Instead of Juliet, he heard Chloe speaking aloud, in her sweetly passionate, hearty voice. And almost instantly, he thought he saw, instead of Juliet's long dark hair, strawberry blonde locks, and rather than Juliet's sparkling eyes, he saw bright flecks of shamrock green. It was almost like a miracle to Richard; Juliet was Chloe, and Chloe was Juliet.

He had never felt his heart beat so hard, listening to the words being spoken aloud. The raw power of them was enough to make Richard's mind separate completely from reality, and for just a moment, he watched Chloe's silky hands reach to grasp at his side, to take his hand between her fingers. She flicked her green eyes to his, and they absolutely locked him inside them. Never before had there been anything so comforting, and so beautiful, before….

"I take thee at your word!"

Richard snapped his eyes open, and gasped, at the exact moment as Juliet, the both of them jolting their heads up, and moving quickly in reaction to the new voice.

"Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I will never be Romeo!"

Jolting to his feet, Richard grabbed at the tree branch nearest him and flung himself down without any thought at all. The compass didn't need to pull him down; he was tumbling down between the branches as though he were being chased, not stopping until he was on the ground. He slowed down once he touched the grass, but continued to duck under the branches while he moved, so as not to be seen by the approaching Romeo. He heard Juliet speak the same shocked words she had said to him, and, thinking it safe, he looked between the twigs to spy on the scene.

"Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords," he heard Romeo say. "Look thou but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity."

There was a whole new look in Juliet's eyes, now that Romeo had appeared; her eyes were positively shining, her cheeks glowing red with the smile that transformed her face. "I would not the world they saw thee here," she whispered.

Beside Richard, the compass glowed a very bright pink, and when he touched it, its warmth was very gentle, like a winter bath. He chuckled under his breath, when he looked between the compass and Romeo and Juliet on the balcony. "Hey, you think it's cute?" he asked, a little teasingly.

The compass flicked its chain at Richard, thwacking him on his knuckles. He drew back with a flinch, and with a sigh, turned back to stare through the leaves.

By this time, Romeo and Juliet were standing face-to-face, with Romeo standing atop a sturdy branch on the same tree Richard had climbed. Their hands were drawing closer and closer to each other.

"Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow, that tips that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-"

Juliet shook her head, looking seriously into Romeo's face. "O, swear not by the moon," she said, "th' inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable."

"What shall I swear by?" Romeo wanted to know.

"Do not swear at all," Juliet answered. "Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee."

Such words were almost impossible to understand, but to Richard, they sure sounded beautiful. It was kind of lovely because, in this kind of setting, with the moon and stars and quiet nature, the language was almost too perfect. It meant that everything just fit, and that life could not be interrupted by anything. There was only just Romeo, and Juliet, in the moment, together, as Richard had imagined him and Chloe earlier.

After a moment of silence, Juliet planted a kiss on Romeo's cheek, and started for the door on the other end of the balcony.

"O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" Romeo asked, beckoning for Juliet with his free hand.

Juliet turned back, a questioning look in her eye. "What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?" she wondered aloud.

"Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine," Romeo replied softly.

Richard's eyes widened. He whispered those same words under his breath, as though he was hearing such poetry for a second time, and then turned to the compass, whose chain was twisted into two circle shapes, both glowing a bright golden white, like diamonds.

Some more words were whispered, while slowly, a golden light crept over the edges of the trees. Richard turned to glance over his shoulder, and through the intertwining leaves and sticks, he saw the dawn of day, sparkling in rays across everything. He whipped himself back around, and both Romeo and Juliet's faces were glowing a golden color. They looked to the horizon for a moment, before the loving smiles, and sparkling eyes returned.

"I would I were thy bird," Romeo whispered close to Juliet's face.

"Sweet, so would I," Juliet said. "Yet I should kill thee with such cherishing. Good night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow." She wrapped her arms around Romeo, and, closing her eyes, touched her lips to his. He reached up slowly, and brushed her hair around her head, playing with it while he pulled her closer to him.

Richard backed away, not really wanting to see much of this scene. And while the sun pulled itself higher into the sky, he kneeled down to the ground, followed by the compass.

"Gee, it seems pretty easy, doesn't it?" he said. "A girl like Chloe would definitely like to hear something like that."

For a long time, Richard sat thoughtfully in the dirt beneath the cover of the trees, wondering how on earth he could present himself to Chloe. If she liked _Romeo and Juliet_, of course he should use something from the play; and, from what he had seen between the characters, the right effects would be pretty simple to accomplish. The hard part was, figuring out how to catch her at the right time, and which words sounded best.

But by now, the sun had risen high enough to glare right into Richard's eyes, and from nearby, he could already hear some early-morning marching. From who, he did not know, but he wondered if perhaps it might be time to go back home.

"What time is it, back home?" he asked the compass.

Snapping to attention, the compass flipped open, showing its marble face. But the face flipped over like a page, to reveal a marble clock face, with intricately-designed numbers, and the same black hands.

Richard observed the time on the clock, and then stood back up, careful not to stand too high so that he could be seen by anyone.

"Okay, then," he said. "Hold still."

When the compass closed back up, Richard plucked it from the air, and then placed it on the ground. He glanced around him one more time, to be sure that no one was coming, and then straightened himself.

"Let's go home," he whispered.

In response, the compass snapped open like a broken box, and shone a bright silver color. Everything around it leaned towards the open compass, like it were a strong magnet, even Richard. A little twister of fairy dust expanded from out of the compass, twirling faster and faster, until Richard couldn't resist the force any more. He gave a little jump, and was pulled into the whirlwind of magic, turning around continuously, while the world of _Romeo and Juliet _seemed to vanish out of sight, melting away into darkness.


	4. The Proposal

**Chapter 4**

Clutching the copy of _Romeo and Juliet _under his arm, Richard caught the last few rays of afternoon sunshine, while he speed-walked towards his bike on the edge of the park. The air was quiet, the trees stagnant, while a familiar voice carried across the open sky. Richard forced himself to not turn in the direction of Chloe's Juliet-voice, but it sure as heck did make his heart turn over. He clenched his fingers against the ancient cover of the book, and tapped the lifeless compass in his pocket. Holding those two things in his hands made him stride even faster across the grass; he could see himself spouting Shakespeare alongside Chloe already.

But first, he had a project to do. Now that he'd seen what _Romeo and Juliet _was like, all he had to do was choose a passage- or two- and keep them locked away in his mind. No matter what, he wasn't going to let himself forget, for he planned to make the moment very special. For so wonderful a first crush as Chloe, "special" meant perfection.

…**..**

With his heart punching at his ribs, Richard spoke softly to himself, following his planned approach as closely as he could. Quietly, he followed Chloe down the sidewalk while she rode her bike, careful not to stare too much at her. But that was much easier said than done. On this particular day- sunnier than the previous one- her hair was tied back into a half-braid that tumbled down her back, tangling with the rest of the strands. There were even some dandelions tied into the elastic, arranged so that the band couldn't be seen under the yellow petals.

Richard just couldn't help but smile at her, as he watched her braid swing to and fro underneath her shining green helmet. He was both excited, and scared out of his wits, about what he was going to do, so he continued to speak aloud his rehearsed lines. So by the time he was parked at the intersection beside Chloe, he couldn't even remember strapping on his helmet, and kicking away from the bike rack.

But once more, they were stuck there for a long time, between the excited first-graders and their parents, before they could cross. Richard whispered the words to himself, squeezing his handlebars until his skin was alabaster white. He dared not look at Chloe, for fear he would lose concentration, and wind up forgetting everything, so he switched between looking at the houses ahead, and the battered copy of _Romeo and Juliet _tucked in Chloe's tiny bike basket.

At long last, they could ride away, and Richard practically threw himself forward, pedaling towards the library swiftly at first, but slowed down when he remembered that girls couldn't stand the smell of sweat.

Still, he double-checked everything when he arrived in the park. He combed his fingers through his hair, pulled on his button-down shirt, and lifted his arms to be sure there were no sweat-stains; he breathed a deep sigh of relief when he checked there, gaining just an ounce of confidence back.

He retrieved the compass from his pocket, and stroked his thumb across the lid. He could not believe this was happening. For the first time in forever, he had actually found the courage to approach a girl. And not just any girl, but Chloe- a Shakespeare fan, the granddaughter of Mr. Dewey, who strapped flowers into her hair, and spent her afternoons in the park, instead of primping in front of a mirror. Every other girl that Richard knew preferred television to books, and Green Day to Shakespeare. How better of a girl could someone like him find?

Then, there came the rustling of bushes, and the metallic spring of a kickstand against the grass.

Richard froze, but then made his way towards the secluded part of the park where he had first heard Chloe's voice. But if the first time had been magical, this time, it was heavenly. He heard her say a different set of words, but there was still the heart inside of them. At times, she stopped to clear her throat, and then get started again, so, Richard began to see his chance.

It took a couple of moments to calm his excited heartbeat, and breathe normally again, but Richard knew this was the right moment; it was now or never.

He stepped inside the space, his hands casually behind his back, and kept his eyes on the bench ahead of him, hoping to catch Chloe's attention.

She stopped speaking, frozen in place.

When she didn't speak, Richard turned his head to look at her. She had that same deer-in-headlights that he had seen on Juliet's face, but framed within a much prettier face. While they both looked at each other, Chloe's face softened and relaxed, until her eyes started to widen.

"I know you," she said, finally. "I saw you after school on our bikes, the other day."

"Yeah, I know," Richard agreed, relieved that she was speaking to him. "So, um…what are you doing?"

Chloe held up her book which, Richard could see, was full of annotations and underlined lines, especially Juliet's.

"Wow! Shakespeare?" Richard asked, pretending to be surprised.

"Yes. You know Shakespeare?" Chloe wondered aloud, with undeniable awe showing inside her grassy eyes; it must have seemed that she was the only one who knew about the playwright, the way she looked at Richard.

"Yeah, a little," Richard answered. "I-I've actually seen some of '_Romeo and Juliet_' before."

"So have I," said Chloe. "I like to read aloud the part of Juliet, even though I'm not exactly an actress."

"Really? Mr. Dewey said you _were_ an actress."

Chloe giggled; a sweet sound to Richard's ears. "You've met my grandpa?" she asked. "Oh, gosh, he always says that. I come here so often, he must think I really am one. Yes, my grandpa likes to play pretend a lot too, cause he loves books so much. I'm surprised no circus performers ever asked him to join, for his energy."

Richard laughed; the idea of someone like Mr. Dewey performing in a circus would be ludicrous enough to sell to a playground jokester. Not that he ever would, but the thought did make him crack up a little.

"So, um…Chloe?" The words were out of Richard's mouth before he could think.

"Yes?" Chloe asked, pulling the word out.

"Uh…well, um…" Richard stammered helplessly. This was supposed to be the moment of truth. He was going to tell her, just how special she was.

But the glorious moment went on longer than he wanted, and yet he still hadn't sputtered out any words of feeling towards the girl.

"Were you going to say something?" Chloe wanted to know. "Anything, at all?"

"I…"

He touched the compass in his pocket.

"'…Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty. Thou art not conquered. Beauty's ensign yet, is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks," he said quickly, trying to keep from breaking into a cold sweat.

"'…and death's pale flag is not advanced there'," Chloe finished.

Richard's jaw dropped.

Chloe just let her book fall on the bench beside her, just staring at Richard's eyes, which had a holy-cow-what-the-heck-did-I-just-say look in them.

Then he said, "I just said something about a…death scene, did I?"

Chloe just nodded, quite pitifully.

Richard slapped his forehead, and leaned back behind him. But he thrust himself so far back, that he tumbled off the bench, and all the way into the shrubbery. His legs were left kicking vigorously into the air, while Chloe raced to help him get out.

"Maybe I should have just said, 'I like you', instead," Richard muttered, although he was unaware that Chloe was leaning up close to him to pull him out of the bushes.

She only smiled.


End file.
